Something Old, Something New
by NYgoldfish54
Summary: Faith's birthday doesn't look too promising. Her boyfriend ditches her, and Bosco takes her out instead.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Something Old, Something New

**Rating: **PG-13 for some mild swearing. Everything else is fine though.

**Setting: **three years after the series finale

**Summary:** Faith's birthday doesn't look too promising. Her boyfriend ditches her, and Bosco takes her out instead.

**Feedback: **yes, please!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. I make no money. Please don't sue.

**Story Notes: **I've been sitting on this for a long time. It was originally very different, but that story got lost in one of my folders at school, so I had to re-write it. It's sort of angsty fluff. I don't know, I just needed to fix Bosco and Faith's relationship, so this is what happened. This was meant to be a one shot but it outgrew that, and is now three parts. It's the first Third Watch fic I've ever done, so try to be kind. Enjoy!

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**Part 1**

Detective Faith Yokas sat in the 79th precinct of Bed Stuy, Brooklyn in a borrowed desk, filling out paperwork on a lowlife she'd just locked away for a double homicide. The case was in this area, though she didn't work out of this precinct, and while she didn't like sitting in somebody else's desk, she'd rather not have to lug the paperwork some place else. She just wanted to get it over with quickly. It wasn't too late, probably around 8:30 or so, but she was ready to end her day. She smiled thinking of how her boss and boyfriend, Captain John Miller, was going to be taking her out for her birthday that night. He'd been unable to do it the last two years now because of the job, but this year he'd promised to put all work off until the next day and give her his full attention for the night. She didn't get his full attention often, their jobs taking up much of their time, so today she'd sent Emily to her father's place and was looking forward to all John's attention.

Her back to the door, she was unaware she was being watched by a certain police officer who'd just been given the night off after being checked out at the hospital for a shoulder injury he'd received earlier that day. It wasn't anything serious and was hardly sore, but the lieutenant, well aware of the officer's reputation of hiding physical pain, had given him the rest of the night off as a precaution. He'd argued about it, saying he was really fine this time, but was overruled and was asked to give Detective Yokas a message before he left. He knocked softly on the door to alert her to his presence.

"Hang on, John, I'll be done in a minute," she said.

"Uh, sorry to disappoint, but…" came a voice that was familiar, but certainly not John's.

Faith spun around in her chair to find Officer Maurice Boscorelli standing in the doorway. "Oh, uh, hi, Bosco. I thought you were…"

"Somebody else, yeah," he finished her sentence awkwardly.

Things hadn't been the same since their falling out three years ago. They saw each other occasionally at work and were polite when they had to talk or work together, but they were not close as they had once been. Partners – best friends even – to awkward acquaintances in a matter of weeks. They'd been through fights before, but never like the one that ended everything. The eyesight, the impossible request, the yelling, the shooting, more yelling, the betrayal of trust, and their own pride had broken the bond they'd forged that was thirteen years strong. In those thirteen years, they'd been to hell and back, and nobody else had ever come between them, but they'd managed to come between themselves. They'd always thought they'd be there for each other. They never saw the fallout coming. Each blamed the other for everything, but each also found that they blamed themselves for everything. In reality, they knew that they were both out of line, and both missed the friendship they'd shared for over a decade. Neither of them was a coward but neither of them had ever summoned the courage to express their feelings out loud, and so time went on, until all real communication had ended and they were reduced to the job, small talk, and forced smiles.

"You need something?" she asked Bosco quietly.

"I've got a message for you," he said, walking over to where she was sitting and handing her the note the lieutenant had given him.

"Oh thanks. That was nice of you," she smiled a little bit, and then took a closer look at him. "How come you're out of uniform during the shift?"

"I hurt my shoulder this afternoon. Well, I didn't hurt it much, it's not bad. But Lieu doesn't believe me. He thinks I hide all physical pain, so he sent me home to recover for the night," he answered easily.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "But you're really fine this time?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I'm really fine."

"That's good. Now you just have a night off."

He nodded and watched her as she opened the note he'd handed her. He was turning to leave when he heard her mutter, "Dammit. Again. Something. Bastard."  
Bosco turned back around in time to see Faith hurl the pen she was holding across the room in angry frustration and crumble the note in her hand. "What's up? Is everything all right?"

She looked angry, but her voice came out quietly, "Yeah, it's nothing."

"What is it?"

She hesitated before telling him, but finally said, "John promised to take me out for my birthday tonight and he's passed me up to do a press conference for the eleven o'clock news."

Bosco wasn't sure what to say; he was never good at finding words for situations like these. "I'm sorry," he settled on the comforting route. "I'm sure it's just a one time deal."

Faith smirked. "This is the third year in a row he's done something like this, actually," she said.

"Oh." So much for being comforting. "Well, I, uh…"

"Don't worry about it, Bosco, I know you suck at consoling people," she said, shrugging. "It's just…I don't know why I let him do this to me is all."

Faith knew that John Miller had blown her off time and time again. She was reminded of it whenever he did it. The problem was that in the time they spent together, Faith forgot about all the times he blew her off, just glad that he was spending time with her. She never mentioned it, he got away with it, life went on and Faith forgot about it until the next time he did it. The cycle had been repeating itself for quite some time.

"You shouldn't let him," Bosco said. He'd known that Faith had started dating a guy named Miller about six months after their falling out. He didn't remember how he'd heard that, but he figured if Faith liked him and he treated her well, then good for her. He didn't think Faith would pick another jerk, but apparently she had.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to head home then," she said, and while she'd sounded almost normal, Bosco's trained ear could hear the sadness most people would have missed. He felt sorry for her and while he meant to leave he couldn't help staying and watched as she looked through her purse.

John had planned to pick her up, so Faith wasn't sure she had the money for a cab to get home. A press conference? He'd ditched her birthday dinner for a press conference? What a son of a bitch. After counting her cash and deciding she had enough to get home, she asked Bosco, "You know the best place to hail a cab around here?"

Faith didn't know Bed Stuy well. She knew it well enough to work there, but not the finer points, like the best place to hail a cab and the best places to eat. Bosco knew Bed Stuy much better than she did, having worked there for three years.

But Bosco looked at her like she was crazy. "No way am I letting you wait for a cab in Bed Stuy. No way," he said. He could tell Faith was about to protest this outburst, but he cut her off. "Don't go all militant feminist on me. I'll take you home in my car."

"I'm perfectly capable of –"

"Not in Bed Stuy, Faith. Not in the dark. You'll get in my car and I'll take you home. End of discussion."

Faith looked surprised by this bizarre act of chivalry, but only nodded for an answer. She was too upset with the thought of spending her birthday alone for the third year in a row to really come up with the energy to battle Bosco's stubbornness. She filed the papers she'd been working on, picked up her purse, put on her coat, and followed Bosco out to his car.

They got in, buckled their belts, and Bosco started his beloved 1969 Mustang convertible. It was in good running condition with no scratches in the blue paint, and the white top was the original. Sure, he'd made a few changes, but for the most part, the car was as it was when it first came out. Bosco took good care of his car. Like his gun, he treated his car better than most of his girlfriends, as Faith had pointed out to him years earlier. Pulling out of the lot, he headed in the direction of Faith's apartment.

They sat in silence as the city lights passed them by, Bosco driving and Faith staring out the window. They had never really been good at sitting in silence back when they rode together in 55-David; one of them had always said something, even while they were fighting. But things were different now, and an uncomfortable silence reigned.  
Bosco was dying to end the awkwardness, and took his eyes off the road for a moment to turn on the radio. His hand was half way to the console when he glanced at Faith, who was looking straight out the windshield. The headlights shining from another car going in the opposite direction illuminated her face, and Bosco saw a tear trickling down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. If it was because she didn't want him to notice it, it was too late; he had already.

This all happened in the space of about a second and a half, and it took Bosco even less time to decide that he was pulling into the next restaurant or bar he saw. She was all broken up about her birthday dinner being cancelled, and as much as Bosco didn't want to act as though everything was okay between them again, because it wasn't, he'd never had the heart to see her cry. They finally came to a small place, and Bosco turned into the parking lot, stopping the car and putting it into neutral before taking out the keys.

"What are you doing?" Faith asked in a quiet voice.

"I'm taking you for a drink," he answered shortly, turning his head to look at her. He could have elaborated and told her why, but he didn't.

She looked back at him curiously, and for a moment she thought she saw him nearly smile, but decided she must have imagined it. Looking back out the window, she said, "Bosco, I'd just rather go home tonight."

He completely ignored her, putting the keys in his pocket and getting out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Faith rolled her eyes and sighed a little, but followed him out. There wasn't much else she could do anyway.

They entered the premise and saw that it wasn't just a bar, but it had small round tables with high chairs, the kind where you had to jump up into them carefully, because they also spun around. If you weren't careful, you could miss and land hard on your ass.

It was self-seating, and so Bosco led Faith over to one of the tables and each of them hopped in a chair. A waitress came over and dropped off a bowl of peanuts and two drink menus, and then left to let them choose something they wanted.

"Why are you doing this?" Faith asked Bosco after the waitress had gone.

"Because I saw you wipe a tear away in the car." Well, that was the truth. He probably wouldn't have made the decision to stop some place if he hadn't seen her crying.

"So what?"

"Listen, I know you're upset that you're spending your birthday alone, for apparently the third year in a row. I know you're sad and hurt that your boyfriend seems to care more about a press conference than he does about you," he elaborated. "You used to do the same thing when Fred forgot your birthday, or your anniversary, or something important like that. You got angry, you acted like it was nothing, but then you were sad for the rest of the day."

Faith didn't like to admit it, but he was right. She was surprised that he remembered her behavior so well, but she guessed that there were some things she still knew about his behavior too. Thirteen years was, after all, a very long time. "Yeah but –"

"Faith, you and I are having a drink for your birthday so you don't spend the rest of the night feeling terrible and I don't spend the rest of the night feeling like a heartless jerk. Enough said," Bosco cut her off with the same sort of finality he used when talking to perps.

"I appreciate it, but you don't have to do this," Faith said timidly, staring at the floor. "I'll be okay."

"I know I don't have to do it and I know you'll be okay," he answered in a softer voice than before, "But nobody deserves to feel unloved on their birthday. I know how that feels, and nobody deserves it."

Looking up from the floor, Faith whispered, "Bosco, we're not even really friends anymore."

He met her gaze, and in a quietly strong voice he answered, "We can pretend to be, just this once."

The shadows danced on the walls in the dimly lit pub, and Faith concentrated on those instead of Bosco. It was too much. From spending the night with John to spending the night with Bosco, it was all too much. She wondered if this was God's idea of sarcasm.

The waitress came back over. "What would you both like to drink?" she asked.

"I'll take a Jack Daniels on the rocks," Bosco said confidently. "What about you?" he looked at Faith.

"Bosco –"

"Order the drink, Faith. Just do it."

"Cosmopolitan," Faith told the waitress.

"Anything to eat?" the waitress asked again.

"There are things to eat?" Bosco asked, looking rather pleased with the idea.

The waitress smiled at his boyish excitement. "Yeah, there are things to eat. Didn't you see the sign on the wall?" she asked, pointing to a sign that was apparently the entire menu.

"Can I get a cheeseburger and fries?" Bosco asked eagerly, scanning the board.

"You bet. What about you, miss?" the waitress asked, turning to look at Faith again.

"Uh…" she looked at Bosco, and he nodded, letting her know it was okay, that he wouldn't mind. She answered, "I'll have a cheeseburger and fries too, please."

"Sure thing. I'll be back with your drinks and your food in a little bit," the waitress smiled and left.

"Thanks, Bosco," Faith smiled a little bit as the waitress walked away.

Bosco nodded. "Couldn't let my former best friend be alone on her birthday now, could I?"

Faith actually found this amusing. She wasn't going to ask, but curiosity overcame her. "So who's your current best friend?"

Bosco hesitated a moment, before finally answering, "I don't really have one."

"Oh."

"I have friends, but none…none like…none like you ever were, you know?" Bosco seemed to have trouble getting this sentence out.

"Yeah, I get it," Faith nodded. Bosco was looking down at the floor now, apparently embarrassed at this confession. Not wanting him to feel that way, Faith quickly added, "I haven't found a friend like you either."

"Nobody?" Bosco asked, looking up at her a little more hopefully than he probably should have.

"Nobody," Faith smiled at him. The sadness she felt about John abandoning her for his own personal glory on her birthday was evaporating as she spoke to Bosco – really spoke to Bosco – for the first time in three years. "What?" she joked, "You didn't want me to have any new friends after we split up?"

He chuckled a little, and said, "No, not really. I just…well, it was always just you and me, you know? You were the one constant in my life for thirteen years. I was so unstable after we split for such a long time. I didn't have anybody. I just didn't think you would have felt the same way."

"Oh, I was a mess," Faith assured Bosco with a grin on her face. "I really was."

"You never fell apart," Bosco said, thinking back on the breakdown he'd had in her arms some six years earlier. "That was always me."

"Well you can't say that anymore, because I fell apart. I actually cried," Faith confessed. "I missed you a lot. I didn't have anyone either. Well, I had Emily, and while I love her, she's not a friend like that."

The waitress came over with their drinks and food just then. Their conversation stopped for a few moments while they both started their meals, until Bosco said through a mouthful of cheeseburger, "So how long have you been dating this John Miller guy?"

"About two and half years. We started dating about six months after you and I stopped talking," Faith answered. Bosco knew all this, but thought it better to ask anyway. He'd sound like a stalker if he knew all this already. This was the first meaningful conversation they'd had in three years, and he didn't want it to turn south, like their last meaningful conversations had, before he was half way through his burger.

"Two and a half years?" Bosco said, acting surprised. "And he treats you like garbage?"

"He doesn't, really. He treats me well. Respects me and my job and my kids."

"So then why's he dumping you on your birthday for the third time?"

"He's just…I don't know. He's glory hungry about the job. Anything on the job that'll get him a little glory he'll do. The rest of his life stops. He's really gung-ho. A lot like you used to be before you grew up," she smiled at him.

"I didn't think you'd pick another jerk after Fred," Bosco said.

"John's not a jerk."

"If he acts like me before I grew up, he's a jerk," Bosco grinned between bites of his cheeseburger.

Faith looked at him and grinned back. "Touché."

"Dump him Faith," Bosco winked. "He's a jerk."

"Oh please. Besides, I always pick jerks. For example, I picked you."

Bosco put a fry in his mouth and chewed it slowly before asking. "What do you mean you picked me? We never dated."

"No, we didn't."

"So what did you mean?"

Faith narrowed her eyes a little. "You mean I never told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Why Fred left me. Why my marriage ended."

"No, you never told me that," Bosco said, watching her eat her own fries. "You just told me that you two were divorcing."

"Oh. I can't believe I didn't tell you…I was sure I did," she hesitated before asking, "Do you want to know?"

"To know what?"

"Why my marriage ended."

"Oh yeah," Bosco said. "Sure."

"Well, for one thing, he met somebody else…and the other reason he left me, well, the other reason was you."

"He cheated on you?"

"Yeah."

"What a scumbag."

"I think it was because of you. He was getting back at me for you."

"What do you mean me? We never dated," Bosco said.

He repeated the fact that they'd never dated as if Faith couldn't have figured this out on her own, but she ignored the remark.

"Well, you know when you had your breakdown? That's when he really started disliking you. I failed the sergeant's test because I was so worried about you that day. Fred didn't like that, and things got worse from there. Finally, when I went back to work after Cruz shot me, I insisted on being with you in 55-David. He didn't want me to go back to work at all, and when I insisted on being partners with you again, to go all the way back to the way it was, he totally flipped out. I think that's when it was finally over," Faith explained. She gave a small smile. "I effectively chose you over my husband and what he wanted."


	2. Chapter 2

**Story Notes:** part two is the longest of the three. I also had some trouble because I keep feeling like I write both of them way too OOC for my personal liking. Did my best. Hope you like it anyway.

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**Part 2**

Bosco couldn't believe he was hearing this. Faith and Fred had always had problems, they'd existed way before he'd ever met them, but he didn't realize he had become one of them, and that she'd picked him over Fred, sacrificing the only other man in her life to keep him close to her. He felt a bit guilty with this new information. His mistakes, his weaknesses, his dependency on her had torn her marriage apart. If he hadn't known Fred was an ass, he would have felt worse about the damage he'd done, but he apologized for his weakness anyway. "I'm sorry," he said. "I never meant to come between you two."

"Don't apologize, Bosco, it's not worth it," she replied, taking a sip of her Cosmo. "Besides, I don't blame you for it. You didn't know. If anything, I owe you a thank you. The end of that marriage was the best thing that ever happened to me, even if it hurt at the time. I didn't really love Fred anymore anyway, and he obviously stopped loving me some time ago, but even when he did love me…" She mumbled something else at the end of her sentence, but Bosco didn't catch it.

"Sorry, what'd you say?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, come on, we're talking civilly, and sharing, and everything," Bosco grinned. "You can tell me. It doesn't matter anymore anyway."

Faith paused for a moment before answering. She'd said too much. This would lead back down that road that they'd both avoided for so long. Finally, softly, she said, "I don't think Fred would have ever taken four bullets for me."

Bosco didn't say anything. He automatically touched his face where the scar from the bullet's exit-wound had been. The scar was no longer as visible and bold as it once was; he'd had the plastic surgery the doctors had talked to him about at the earliest possible opportunity.

Originally, he hadn't planned to do it. He had always thought plastic surgery a vain and shallow thing to do unless it was absolutely necessary, like those people whose faces had been all messed up in accidents and fires. Sure, he'd always joked about his good looks to the guys in the locker room when the subjects of girls and dating had come up, and he'd always flashed a smile to the girls, but he never realized that those looks were as half as important to him as he pretended. When the bandage had come off, he'd never dreamed that flashing his smile wouldn't be enough. He never dreamed that the girls, the guys, that anyone who didn't know him, his story, and his struggle to come back from life threatening injuries wouldn't look past the scars.

Bosco had never dreamed he'd be so vain as to have the plastic surgery, to not be able to stand the glances from the passersby who hardly knew him and only saw the flaws in his face. He couldn't take it. He was, for the most part, a confident man. He could look in the mirror and stand the scars, even if he didn't like them. What he couldn't stand was the way people looked at him and let their mouths hang open when they saw the crater in his face. It was too much for him. He gave in had the surgery just so people wouldn't gape at him anymore, like he was some kind of animal on display at the Bronx Zoo.

Faith reached across the table and pulled his hand away from his face, dragging him out of his thoughts. "Don't be self-conscious, Bosco. It looks good."

He smiled a little and then admitted, "I had the plastic surgery and everything."

"You?" she said, sounding surprised. Faith knew of Bosco's dislike for plastic surgery.

"Well, yeah. You didn't think I was going to have a hole in my face forever, did you?" he asked.

"Well no, but Bosco, that's expensive. When'd you get the money?"

"I got some of it from the department, used a bit of my own, and borrowed some of it from my ma," he explained.

"You should have asked me for at least some of it," Faith said quietly, looking intently at the fries remaining on her plate. "If anyone should have paid for it, it should have been me."

"Yeah well," Bosco gave a bitter laugh and leaned back in his chair, "I wasn't about to ask you for anything anymore."

She recognized the tone of his voice. It was coming: the inevitable interrogation. It was like attempting to stop a hurricane, but Faith tried anyway. "Bosco, please, it's been such a nice birthday talking to you again, please don't –"

But Bosco couldn't keep himself from saying it. His mind had wandered too far down that path. Like a small child, he'd pulled the scab off the wound again, and it began to bleed.

"What did I ever do or say to make you believe that I would lie to you?" he asked her.

Faith continued to look sadly down at the table and then said, in a tiny voice, "It's a long story."

"Well, Faith, I've got time," Bosco said heatedly, looking at his watch. "Tell me about it."

"Are you sure you want to hear this?" Faith asked him.

Bosco nodded. "Like I said, we got time. Hell, I got all night."

Faith downed what was left of her Cosmopolitan and signaled to the bartender for another. She sighed and resigned herself to the fact that the day had finally come when she would have to explain herself to Bosco. She had hoped this day would never come. She hated talking about those few weeks she fought with Bosco over his vision and his shooting ability; she hated thinking about their fighting, his being shot, and she and Cruz covering up her vigilante justice. All those events went against the moral, fair, strong person she always tried to be; they showed her at her weakest, they made her hate herself.

She didn't know when the day would be when she had to explain it all to Bosco, but she knew that eventually he would come looking for answers. He always did come to her, and it was just a matter of time. She'd wanted to put it all off for as long as possible, but her time had finally run out. He'd finally come for the whole story, and he had the right to know it. Faith knew this. She just didn't want him to see her that way. She didn't want him to see the mess she'd become because of pain and fear. She didn't want him to hate her the way she hated herself.

But he deserved to hear everything, because he had taken those four bullets for her, which had led to everything else. If anyone deserved to know the truth, it was Bosco. Strong, loyal, brave Bosco with the good heart who'd risked everything for her. And even though she didn't want to tell him, she knew she had no choice. Swallowing quickly and taking a deep breath, she said, "Remember when you asked me when I stopped believing in you? It was right after that thing with that vampire guy who tried to get back at me through Emily?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, I never did stop believing in you. Not really."

"Then why'd you do all that stuff?" Bosco asked her incredulously. "Why'd you accuse that sharp shooter of throwing a few bullets my way? Why'd you go to Swersky about my eyes? Why didn't you believe me when I just told you?"

Faith felt and looked surprised, as though she'd been whacked around the face with one of those plastic yellow wiffle-ball bats. "You mean you honestly don't know?" she asked him softly. She thought he'd at least have figured this part out. "Really, even after all this time you've had to find out everything and think it all out, you really don't know?"

"The closest I could get was that you enjoyed being some big shot detective."

"The color of my badge had nothing to do with it," she said, slightly annoyed now. He accused her of forgetting what it was like to be a beat cop, of forgetting what it's like to have to come back from an injury. She hadn't. She'd been shot, paralyzed, and had to make her way back. She'd been partners with him for thirteen years as a beat cop. She'd never forget what it was like to be afraid that she'd never speak to him again. As much as she didn't want to have this conversation, she was grateful that he was actually there to have it with her. No, she'd never forget how it was.

"Then what was it?" Bosco asked impatiently.

"It certainly wasn't my shield," Faith snapped.

"Then what was it?" he asked angrily again.

"I was scared, all right? I was afraid," she admitted reluctantly. "I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of what? Bosco, are you kidding me?"

"No. What were you afraid of?"

"I…I…I was afraid of losing you, Bosco," Faith stuttered at first, struggling to get the words out, but she found her voice. "You told me you couldn't see, and you came to my apartment and you asked me to shoot for you. You magically re-qualify a week or two after I turn you down and I didn't know what to think. I was afraid you were going to get hurt."

"Risk is part of the job, Faith. Remember?"

She sighed, "Yeah, I remember. But risking losing you again was not a chance I was willing to take. So I did everything I could to try and protect you, even if I hurt you – hurt us – in the process. It was sort of a defense mechanism."

"A defense mechanism for what?" he asked her. "What could you possibly be defending yourself from?"

"Guilt. Pain. Fear," she answered. She said everything quickly, as if it would be easier to say and hear if she said everything really fast. "Everything you were going through, it was all my fault because I had stood up instead of hitting the deck when those shooters came running in. If you had cheated to re-qualify, you getting hurt wouldn't have been my fault. It would have been yours. And I could try to protect you from yourself, the way you protected me from my own stupidity that day."

Bosco just stared at her, and silence reigned for a moment. "It was still a lousy thing to do," he said finally. "Going behind my back like that and making me feel like shit. You were the only person in the world I was sure would believe me, the only person who mattered to me what they thought, and you…you failed me. You hurt me."

Failure. There it was. Failure. She'd let him down. She'd been a failure as a partner and a friend, and in all the time he'd known her, stupid, wild, and reckless as he was sometimes, he'd never failed her so totally and completely when she needed him. He'd never done to her what she had done to him.

"I'm so sorry for that, Bosco, I really am. I know it was selfish of me to be trying to ease my guilt and fear when you were struggling, but I really was afraid that you'd be hurt again. You saved my life that day, I haven't forgotten it, and I'll never be able to repay you for it. I was just…trying to make it up to both of us," she said quietly. "I'm really sorry. If I could do it over, I'd do it differently."

"Maybe I should run out and get a bullet in the face, lie in a coma for months again," Bosco snapped irritably.

Faith winced. "Don't even say that. Please don't say that."

"Give me a break, Faith."

"You weren't conscious after you were shot. You didn't see yourself," she said.

"I saw the scars," he snapped. "I felt pain before I passed out and after I woke up. If you went through anything, what I went through was worse."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Bosco," Faith snapped, her temper rising to meet his, and she truly angry with him for the first time. "What the rest of us went through was terrible. It wasn't the same, but it was terrible! You didn't see all the blood, or the mess on the floor. You didn't see Davis looking sick and Cruz, balls of brass Sergeant Maritza Cruz, looking terrified when I turned you over. You didn't see me doing CPR desperately trying to keep you alive; all the while praying that'd you'd make it. You didn't see the doctors trying to jump start your heart. You didn't see me scrubbing blood off my face in the bathroom so I didn't scare your ma when I walked in to tell her what happened to you. You didn't see me crying, you didn't see me and Cruz when…" she stopped. She'd said too much again.

Bosco looked dumbfound at her sudden outburst, but the momentary surprise was turning to curiosity and as he recovered, he was awaiting her next sentence. This part, she'd never planned to tell him. She thought he would just listen to why she went behind his back and be done with it and hate her forever. But he hadn't done that. She'd underestimated him again, and he'd angered her into giving up too much. When she didn't continue, he pressed her. "When you and Cruz what?" he asked.

"Bosco," she whispered, "Bosco please don't make me –"

"Faith," he said, and for the first time since this conversation started, he sounded gentle, and Faith nearly felt that she was talking to a friend again. "Please, tell me. We've got nothing left to lose."

"But, Bosco, I…" she racked her brain for an excuse, but she couldn't find one, except that she didn't want to tell him, which he'd never accept. He'd haunt her until she spilled her guts. He knew how to get to her. He'd needle her for as long as it took to extract the information he wanted. It was his greatest strength when it came to dealing with her. It was also his greatest weakness, because sometimes he found out too much.

"Tell me," he said patiently, "I need to know."

Faith decided that once again, she had no choice. She closed her eyes tight shut for a moment and then opened them again. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and began to explain what happened next.

"They carted you off to surgery and I went to speak to your mom. Once everything was under control in the ER and the prisoners had been arrested or killed, I really don't know which, Cruz somehow got a hold of Yoshi, remember him?" Not waiting for his answer, she continued, "Well, he's the one who sold us all out to Donald Mann. She made Yoshi take her to Mann's place. I overheard them talking, so I got into Jelly's RMP and followed them. I had your off-duty gun from before when I was sitting with you in the lounge to protect us if another shooter came in."

Faith paused and dared to look at Bosco rather than the very small drop of water she'd been focusing on while she'd been talking, and Bosco was looking at her expectantly. She took a sip of her refilled Cosmopolitan before continuing. "When I got there, I waited for Cruz and Yoshi to go inside. I gave them three minutes and then followed them in. Yoshi was handcuffed to the stairs, and told me Cruz had gone up looking for Mann. So I climbed the stairs and was looking in rooms when I heard gunfire from above me. I think Cruz shot at the helicopter that I'd seen flying toward the building through a window. I headed for the roof as fast as I could, and I found Cruz standing there with her gun pointed at Mann. He was saying it wouldn't be over until we were all dead…and…"

"Yeah, I know, he pulled a knife and tried to stab Cruz, so you shot him," Bosco said. "I heard about it later."

"No, Bosco," Faith said, blinking. "That's the lie Cruz and I told to keep ourselves out of trouble…or really, that's the lie Cruz came up with to keep me out of trouble."

"Why would she be trying to keep you out of trouble?"

"Bosco, Cruz was pointing her gun at Mann but she'd gone to put him under arrest…he already had handcuffs on, he was already in custody when I…when I…when I emptied the clip into him," she said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" he didn't understand. It was too much. It was just too much. He couldn't believe it. There had to be another explanation…

"I mean that he never pulled a knife on Cruz. I mean he was under arrest. I mean that…that…"

"Faith…"

"…I shot him in cold blood, Bosco. He had no knife, no weapon, he was going to come in to the station with Cruz," she continued. "And I shot him anyway."

"You murdered a man?" Bosco's face was unreadable. "You _murdered_ a man?"

"Not just any man. A piece of scum who was a menace to society, who was importing drugs, who had his henchmen shoot up a hospital, who killed two other cops, who killed your brother, who I thought…" she could barely say it. "Who I thought killed you."

Bosco just stared at her in silent disbelief.

"And I wasn't sorry. To this day, I'm still not sorry I shot him," she said, accidentally letting out a sob. She wiped her eyes, which had started watering in spite of her effort to control them, and started talking again. She didn't know what else to do. "He fell into the pool, you know? So Cruz went in and took off the handcuffs and planted the knife. She made up our cover story. I wasn't originally going to follow it, I didn't care what happened to me, but she reminded me I had a family, which I'd forgotten up until that point. I was only thinking about the fact that I thought my partner – my best friend – was dead. Cruz tried to be nice to me, I sort of blew her off…I think I was in shock."

Bosco finally managed to get some words out. "What happened next?"

"Everything was fine for a while, Cruz and I kept quiet obviously, and then a few weeks later IAB – something to do with Sasha Monroe, I don't remember anymore – arrested Cruz for murder. I couldn't let that happen, I couldn't let her go to jail for something I'd done. She was just trying to help me. She went to Rikers for awhile, nearly got killed there from what I understand, but never ratted me out."

"How'd you get her out of it?"

"IAB dragged me away in the middle of a custody hearing to be their witness. I got full immunity. CT Finney himself was in the room to get my statement. They wanted Cruz so bad that they never even considered that I wouldn't give the story they wanted. So I signed the immunity papers. CT Finney signed the papers, I had two witnesses to the signing, they turned the tape on, and…" she took a very deep breath and stopped for a moment to look at Bosco.

He had the look on his face of a kid listening in on the latest piece of gossip at school. "Go on," he encouraged her.

"I confessed everything. Finney called me a liar, but I wouldn't change my story so they had to let us both go, me and Cruz. I met Cruz when she got off the bus from Rikers. It was pouring rain but I waited for her and asked why she never told IAB it was me. She said it was because she didn't rat out cops, no matter who they were or whether she liked them or not. I told her I didn't owe her anything because I didn't ask for anything, and she said that was 'Fair enough.' I gained some respect for her that night though. I didn't like her, but I respected her more than I had before," Faith paused and then said, "You woke up that night. I didn't know it until later, but you woke up that night."

"Is that all?" Bosco asked her weakly. He'd had more than he bargained for. It was too much information to take in at once. It was more than he could handle, both mentally and emotionally, knowing that these two women, Faith Yokas and Maritza Cruz, who mixed about as well as lightning and water, had come together to avenge him and then protected _each other_ from the people who'd put them in prison for it.

"That's the whole story. That's everything. I visited you, and I did my best to help you. I did my best to avenge you, to repay you for what you did for me, but I can't ever do that completely," Faith said sadly.

Bosco nodded and looked down at the table, running his hand near the edge, not saying anything.

Faith took another sip of her Cosmopolitan and then took a deep breath, and then spoke quickly again. "I hope you understand why I did what I did after you got back on the job. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry I nearly got you killed. I'm sorry for everything…I don't expect you to forgive me for what I did after you got back, but I hope you forgive me for why I did it. It wasn't that I didn't believe you or that I thought you were lying or that I thought you had actually cheated at the range. I just panicked, and I'm sorry I behaved the way I did, but I couldn't bare the thought of losing you, Bosco, not again."

Neither of them spoke for quite some time. Faith was certain that Bosco was trying to come up with a way to tell her he hated her guts and never wanted to speak to her again.

Those two words echoed inside her head. Never again. _Never again._


	3. Chapter 3

**Story Notes:** part three is the shortest of the three parts, I think. I had the same problem with this as I had with the second part, I felt as though I were writing too OOC. I reworked it a lot and did my best with it, and so this is the finale. I hope you like it, and thanks for reading.

* * *

**Part 3**

"It was selfish of you to do, you know," Bosco said, finally breaking the long, intense silence and looking Faith straight in the eyes. "To only consider how you felt about things after I got back on the job. It was so hard for me and not having you to back me up made it all that much harder."

"I know, Bosco."

"I wouldn't lie to you, ever, not about something important like shooting at the range," Bosco said.

"I know that."

"I'd never doubt you if our situations were reversed, even if I was afraid for you. When you got shot and wanted to ride with me again, I didn't stop you."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Faith said sadly, looking at the table and struggling not to cry. "I understand that you don't want anything to do with me anymore now that you know everything. I get it. You hate my guts for everything that's happened. But you wanted to know the whole story and so I figured you deserved to know it. If this is the last time we're ever going to speak, I understand –"

"Whoa, Faith, slow down. What are you talking about?"

"I'm just saying that I get it."

"Get what?"

"I understand that you don't want to know me anymore."

"Why wouldn't I want to know you?"

"Because I betrayed you for selfish reasons, out of fear. Because I was weak. Because I can't blame you for hating my guts. I hate them too on days when I think too much about what happened to us," Faith explained.

Bosco shook his head. "I don't hate your guts. I don't hate you. You weren't weak."

"But –"

"You were human," Bosco smiled faintly at her.

"I wasn't a good partner."

"You were trying to be a good friend."

"I wasn't a good friend, either," Faith sighed.

"Faith, did you not just say that you shot the guy who had those gunmen shoot me?" Bosco asked. Faith nodded sadly. "I don't know anybody else who'd have done that for me."

"Yeah, but after that, I –"

"You were there for me in rehab and in the hospital and you came to visit. You helped me through my physical therapy. And then later you were so afraid for me that you'd risk our personal relationship to make sure I was safe. I'm flattered you thought that highly of me," Bosco grinned at her.

Now, three years after everything that had happened, knowing the entire story, Bosco felt a rush of affection and gratitude toward Faith for doing what she did after he got back on the job. He never thought he'd be able to feel anything but bitter and angry at her about it, and when the conversation had started, he still felt angry. He wasn't the "let bygones be bygones" type. But now she'd told him everything. He knew now that she'd done what she'd done because she did care about him, not because she didn't care about him anymore.

Now he could see Faith was sorry, why she was sorry. Faith Yokas – head strong, determined, stubborn Faith Yokas – his best friend for thirteen years, was sorry. She was struggling not to cry, he could tell by the way she was blinking quickly and avoiding his eyes. He'd only seen her do it a couple of times before, and he'd hated every moment of it.

Yes, she'd hurt him. She'd made him feel lousy about himself, drove him to drinking…but she'd also killed a man for him. She'd tried to protect him from himself. She was the only one who knew him well enough to know when he was lying. He could fool everyone else, including himself, but not her. He couldn't fool her.

"Bosco," she said so softly he hardly heard her, "I –"

"Don't apologize anymore, Faith. I'm sorry too. I should have known you weren't after me because of your badge or anything…what I don't understand is, why didn't you tell me about all this before?"

Faith looked at him, feeling suddenly drained. "I don't know. It was such a hard time for us and I just…couldn't find the right time or place to tell you. I wasn't ever going to tell you after awhile. I just figured you'd lose more respect for me, be hurt, and use what I did for you against me."

"Faith, I'd never have –"

"I know, but like I said, it was such a bad time, I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Don't you think, after what I'd been through, I would have liked to hear that?"

"I didn't know what to think anymore. I just…you saved my life. I couldn't forget that. I couldn't forget what you'd done for me. You were angry, I was scared, I just decided to leave it," she sighed, closing her eyes. "Let it die, let it all go away."

"It didn't go away this time, though."

"I know."

"This is the first time we've really spoken in three years."

"I know that too," Faith said, and downed what was remaining of her second Cosmo of the night. Was it her second? She wasn't sure. The waitress had come by a couple times while they'd been talking, but she wasn't sure how much she'd been drinking. She saw an untouched cup of coffee in front of her, realizing that the waitress must have come by with it. She saw Bosco had one too, and that it was hardly touched as well. His glass of Jack Daniels was still in front of him. She wondered how much he'd had.

"So I'm sorry too," Bosco said. "For letting this all go on, for letting it get so out of hand. I was a jerk. You were getting to me and I went on the defensive like I always do. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I'm sorry too."

Faith smiled. "That's okay Bosco. You'd been through a lot."

Bosco reached out and touched Faith's hand. "We both had."

The waitress came by with the check. Faith made a grab for it but Bosco beat her to it. "I told you," he said, "This is on me."

"It wasn't just a drink. It was a full meal. Come on, at least let me pay for my own," Faith pleaded. "Like we used to do."

Bosco shook his head. "I always used to buy on your birthday. You used to buy on mine. It's your birthday. I brought you here. I'll buy," he said with finality, handing some bills to the waitress.

Faith realized that she'd actually forgotten it was her birthday as she watched the waitress walk away, and then she looked at Bosco again. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't find any more words. She'd said them all, and he knew everything. She hadn't wanted to tell him, but now that she had, everything didn't seem so bad anymore. It felt as though a weight had come off her chest. The dread and nervous anxiety she'd felt earlier was gone, she felt as though she could breathe freely again. The silence was no longer awkward.

Bosco got his change, handed the waitress a tip, then stood up and pulled his jacket on. Faith followed suit, and together they walked out of the restaurant.

"How much have you had to drink?" Faith asked Bosco.

"Not much. Don't worry, I'm okay."

They stood facing the parking lot, and Bosco checked his watch. Faith saw it was the one she'd given him five years ago for Christmas. She couldn't help feeling a little warmer on the inside than she did a moment before.

"It's midnight," he informed her, both of them staring into the nearly empty parking lot. There were a couple of other cars, but the Mustang was all by itself in a row of unoccupied spots. Bosco wondered for a moment if the Mustang was lonely sitting there all alone.

"We've been here for at least three hours," Faith smiled. "Felt like a lot longer."

"Felt like a lot less time than that, too," Bosco grinned. "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," Faith shook her head. "Not bad at all. It was a nice birthday, Bosco. The best one I've had in four or five years. Thanks."

"You owe me big time," he chuckled. "I haven't had a good birthday in a while either."

"You spend your past few birthdays alone too?"

"Yeah. Pretty much. Ma calls and I go out to the cemetery to have a beer with Mikey, but that's pretty much it."

They started walking towards the car, and they saw a police car shooting up the street, complete with flashing red and blue lights and blaring sirens. Bosco stopped walking, remembering something. "You remember the last time we were really at peace like this?" he asked Faith as she stopped beside him.

"Not really," she admitted.

"It was when I got out of the hospital. When you had 55-David and the police escort waiting to take me home," Bosco said. He had a light smile on his lips.

Faith smiled faintly as well. "Oh yeah. Swersky gave me a very loud lecture later, but I don't think he was actually mad, because he smiled and betrayed his own words. I think he had seen something like it coming and he knew I was going all out for my partner."

"You did go all out for me."

"No, Bosco, you went all out for me. It was the least I could do."

"Remember what happened after that?" Bosco smiled again.

"We fought?" Faith said with a grin.

Bosco laughed. "No, I mean before that."

Faith was slightly confused. "What happened?"

"I went like this," Bosco said, and he turned, wrapping his arms around Faith's waist, hugging her.

"Yeah," she said into his ear. "Yeah, and I hugged you back." She put her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, happy to finally feel like things were normal again.

"I've missed you so much. You're still my best friend," he whispered into her ear.

Faith looked at him, pursing her lips a little before kissing his cheek and whispering, "Yeah, I've missed you too, partner of mine."

They stood in that hug for a moment, each reflecting on their lives without the other and reveling in the happiness that came with knowing they had found each other again. They heard the door behind them creak open. Looking back, they saw that one of the other waitresses had come out for a cigarette break.

They disengaged from the embrace and started walking back towards the car. A couple steps away from the car, Bosco halted again, and grabbed Faith's arm.

"What?" she asked.

"Are we okay now?" Bosco asked, hoping they were.

"I don't know. Are we?" Faith asked. She felt all right, but maybe Bosco didn't feel that way. She didn't want to force him into anything.

"I like you much better than I did a couple of hours ago," he said, smirking slightly.

"Yeah, and I'm comfortable with you again," she nodded.

"So we're okay?"

"I'd like to think so, but how do we go on from here?" Faith asked. Now that she and Bosco were friends again, how does one move on after a three year hiatus? "Do we just pick up where we left off and pretend the past three years never happened?" she asked incredulously.

Bosco thought for a moment, and then said, "Let's not go on from here. Let's go on from that day you picked me up from the hospital. I…I loved you so much that day for everything you'd done for me while I was in the hospital, and then the car thing."

"You really loved me that day?"

Bosco looked away. "Yeah. In a lot of ways, I really did."

Faith smiled, slightly flattered that Bosco would consider her worthy of his love -- something he hardly ever handed out. "I was so proud that you'd made it. They didn't think you'd wake up. They didn't think you'd be able to function. They said you'd never go back to work. But you beat it. You beat them. You kicked the ass of everything that was against you. You..." she trailed off. She'd forgotten about this. There was still one thing left for her to tell him.

"What?"

"Well, when you were first shot, Swersky came to find me, to reassure me that you'd make it. I told Swersky that he didn't see you, and he said you'd make it because you were Bosco. I said you weren't Superman."

"So?"

"So you made it. You overcame it all, and I was so proud of you. You walked out of the hospital and you were my Superman that day," Faith said, a faint trace of embarrassment in her voice.

"Superman," Bosco smiled, and there was a note of the old, familiar cockiness is his voice. Softly, he added, "I can live with Superman."

"So let's start over new then?"

"Well, yes, but not new, exactly. Not 'Hi my name is Maurice Boscorelli but don't ever call me Maurice' new," Bosco said, and Faith laughed. "But let's go on from that day when I left the hospital. We won't pretend this never happened, because it did, and it was a valuable thing for us, but we'll go on feeling the way we did that day. Do you get what I mean?" Bosco asked. He was being way too deep for his own good. Sensitive, well-thought out words were never his strong suit. But Faith wouldn't laugh at him. Faith knew what he was trying to say.

"Yeah," Faith said easily. "I get what you mean. We won't forget, but we'll go on like always. We'll pick up where we left off before we started fighting. Let it all go but remember what it's done for us."

Bosco nodded. "That's what I meant….you know, I meant what I said when I said that I've really missed you. You read my mind sometimes. You knew me. Nobody else knows me like that. Nobody else gets it the way you do."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Faith smiled. "I've truly missed you too."

"Think we can live with all this? We usually just bury things."

"This was too big to bury. We needed more time. We actually needed to talk about it all."

"Yeah. Can you live with all this baggage?" Bosco grinned.

"Yeah. I can live with all my best friend's baggage. I hope he can live with mine," Faith smiled.

"Yeah," Bosco grinned again. "I can live with it."

"You think we'll be all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think we'll make it. We've always made it before. Nothing can beat us."

"We sometimes beat ourselves."

"Maybe we should try communicating better from now on," he said thoughtfully, unlocking the car doors.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. It worked tonight," she nodded. Communication would solve a lot of their problems. "So we'll make it?"

"Yeah," answered Bosco, opening his door and getting into the car, and Faith got into the passenger side. "Yeah, we'll make it. We'll find a way through it all."

"We always do."

"Yeah. Always."

The doors slammed shut, the key went into the ignition, and the Mustang sped away. The car held two passengers, Maurice Boscorelli and Faith Yokas, but it held a lot more than that. It held a little bit of everything. It held two beat cops from the 55th precinct's third watch, who rode for years as 55 – David. It held a beat cop of the 79th precinct and a detective of the Major Case Squad who had just shared their first meal together since earning those positions. It held thirteen years of friendship and three years of intense dislike. It held the memories of yesterday and the dreams of tomorrow. It held two old friends with new hope for each other and their relationship together.

It held something old and it held something new.

Something old, something new.


End file.
